


Live, Lie and Let Go

by Kirausagni



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Cayde's Dead, Don't Worry About It, Post-Forsaken, Vishya is my Ghost's name, Way of the Wraith is fun, it's 2am, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirausagni/pseuds/Kirausagni
Summary: It's not your fault





	Live, Lie and Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> This was a rage writing from around 2am, don't worry about it.
> 
> Vishya is my ghost and Cayde is dead. Just some facts about this fic.
> 
> By the way it is supposed to be all over the place with almost no rhyme or rhythm, that's the way my Guardian is. Yeah, she's a bit loopy like, all the time. Again, don't worry about it.  
> Enjoy.

“ _ **It’s not your fault.”**_

 

Those words ran a track through her brain, sinking their sharp claws into her mind and not letting go, no matter how many times she tried to make them.

 

When she was lying in the small cot sitting in the back of her ship, the scene played behind her eyelids, like a grotesque horror movie.

 

She hasn’t slept since the Hangman had fallen to her blade.

 

Originally, the burning hate that sat in the pit of her stomach like a rock kept her going. It sung her a promising lullaby and pushed her into a fitful sleep. But now, the rock had lightened and instead, worry and guilt coiled like a snake in her gut.

 

It was her fault.

 

If she sprinted just a _little bit faster_ , pulled the trigger just a _little bit faster,_ then Cayde might still be here.

 

Vishya had told her that, “ _No. It isn’t your fault.”_

 

She just gifted him a weak smile and softly told him, “ _Thank you, Little Light._ ” and that was the end of that.

 

When she had leveled the Ace of Spades against Uldren’s head, her eyes were dull- dead. The aggressive and the guilty parts of herself wrestled in her chest, hitting against her rib cage. It ached.

 

“The line between light and dark is so very thin,” Uldren had heaved, eyes glaring and voice rising from his chest.

 

“Do you know which side you’re on?” He hissed, supporting himself on his elbows.

 

Painted pink lips were caught between unnaturally white teeth as the hand cannon was lowered. Blue eyes glanced away from him and her eyebrows furrowed.

 

At the heated glare Petra was sending her, she raised the gun again and nodded. Blue met yellow and the last thing Uldren saw before hearing the resounding _bangs_ of the guns, was a flash of pure pity.

 

After that, she hung around the Tangled Shore, completing bounties from Spider and clearing out the bothersome escapees from the Prison. She also took her time to repair her relationship with Vishya.

 

The only reason she returned to the Tower was to retrieve the repaired Ace of Spades. When Banshee had carefully slipped the hand cannon into her awaiting hands, he had smiled at her, then looked confused for a moment, “I haven’t seen Cayde around recently. Wonder where he got to...”

 

She had retreated before he could ask her more.

 

The Ace of Spades was well cared for in her hands, minding a few aesthetic changes she made to it. Nothing too serious, just a touch up of dark black paint for the main body and for the bright white, a light red, that seemed to pulse with the little bit of solar light she had infused into the paint.

 

She preferred sitting at the back of her fireteam, blowing off the heads of any enemy that was idiotic enough to step right into her sight line. But, she supposed, that doing that at medium range would work.

 

She always wanted to be in the thick of the battle.

 

Back when Cayde was...functioning, he would make sure that she wasn’t doing exactly what she’s doing now. Place her on supply runs or overwatch, maybe send her to Mars to complete patrols. Something simple, that wouldn’t get her killed.

 

Weak light translates into an easier death. Blame Oryx.

 

But since she had spoken to the Light (Was it the Traveler? They’re one in the same, aren’t they?) she had felt even more powerful since that interaction. She had forgotten the feeling of truly being in control of her own actions, like a guardian should.

 

Now her knives, infused with void light made quick work of any and all enemies. She’ll swing and swipe no matter how many times she needs, only stopping when her light grows low.

 

They _adored_ it in Crucible.

 

Anyway, Gambit...

 

**Author's Note:**

> I AM AT 528 LIGHT AND NOTHING HIGHER THAN 525 IS DROPPING AND IT'S MAKING ME MAD.
> 
> Sorry, needed to get that off my chest. I'm still in the anger stage of grieving.


End file.
